Drinks on the Table
by Timmesque
Summary: [Spike:Jet friendship] When two men are lonely, they tend to drown their sorros in wine. Except now. they don't need to anymore because they have each other. [pre-Bebop]


**Drinks on the Table**

**By Timberwolf220**

**A/N: As much fun as I've had lately with writing Spike/Faye friendship fics (no offence to anyone, I prefer the friendship angle), I thought I'd try another angle to it. Specifically, Spike/Jet friendship. I mean, they did know each other far longer than Spike ever knew Faye and I think out of them all, Jet was the only one who truly understood Spike's situation. And Spike would only trust Jet.**

**This is around the second time Jet met Spike. (pre-Bebop)**

**DISCLAIMER: Do I look like Keiko Nobumoto?**

(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)

The barstool in the far corner was empty.

Of course, Jet wasn't expecting someone to fill up that seat, but it made him painfully aware of the loneliness creeping inside of him. He didn't even want to look at that damn broken watch otherwise he might break down and that's a phase no man should ever go through. No self-respecting man, that is. Unlike the other man who sat beside him at the moment.

Spike Spiegel, the man introduced himself with a lazy grin you would see on a content cat, except his eyes were filled with a turmoil no person should be forced to endure. Jet didn't want to know his sob story. Spike never offered to tell him.

And that made some palpable tension in their shoulders ease out slowly.

Jet still had his pride and he was damn proud of it too. But he knew the difference between pride and dangling your life like a gibbet for the vultures (1). And Spike had learnt that lesson, but hadn't really bothered to memorize it. A mistake young people made often in these days, Jet said, smiling into his drink. They never listen to their elders (2).

His voice was rough, as if he hadn't spoken in days and consequently lost the art of conversation, "Where will you go?"

It wasn't an uncommon question for strangers in bars to ask that (though the straightforwardness took him back sometimes). Maybe it is a way to calm the person beside you down so that he might buy you drinks out of curiousity. But coming from Spike, it was more…spiritual in a way.

Jet simply grunted into his drink as he set it down, the ice clinking together, "Can't say really." And that was the truth. All that he had now was the Bebop, but he needed another person to manage it. It was too big to be handled by one person even though Jet was more than capable, "Leave. Scrounge around for work." God Almighty, he never thought he'd ever say that. 'Scrounge around for work?' Bob would have been shocked (and probably traumatized) to hear Jet say that. The Pillar of Police-hood, Bob nicknamed him.

He missed Bob. He missed his partner (if he called him by name, he might end up jinxing it and going back). He missed her.

God, he broke down….

"I…want to learn how to live."

That statement, shook Jet out of his self-imposed reverie, "…Huh?" He said in confusion. Learn how to live? His brow creased in thought. How does one learn how to live?

Spike must have understood his hesitation and spoke in a quiet voice, "I spent most of my life…living for another person. But I can't live for that person anymore. So I have to…live for myself from now on," Then he let out a dry chuckle, "But I don't know how to start."

This was an unusual night.

Jet said nothing, picking up his glass once more and staring down at his reflection in deep thought, "Do you want to come with me?" He said suddenly, causing Spike to glance up sharply at him.

He didn't even think about. It was instinct, nothing more. Maybe Spike was like every other person on the street who believed they've seen the world (or worlds. He'll never get used to that). But something told him that Spike had seen more of his share of the world. And that his experiences might just humble Jet's.

Maybe this would bring nothing but misfortune. Maybe Spike will stay for a while before heading out on his own, leaving Jet back to where he was before. Sitting in the bar, looking at the empty barstool on the far corner of the room.

But maybe Spike will stay. And maybe Spike will be there when he needs him. Maybe Spike can understand when he needs space and when he doesn't.

Jet glanced at Spike, who hasn't looked up since his proposal. He could literally see the wheels turning and creaking in his head. Spike's head bobbed up and down, his green-black locks dull with the glazed yellow strobe lights.

"I'll come," Spike said finally, "On one condition."

Jet couldn't stop himself from smiling, "And what would that be?"

"You're the cook," Spike finished his drink with a large gulp and slammed the glass onto the polished counter, "And you better be a non-vegetarian." His glare was mocking and light-hearted and slightly glazed from the alcohol.

And the barstool on the far corner didn't seem so lonely anymore.

(O)(O)(O)

**A/N: Ummmm…**

**Geez…I'll stick with Spike/Faye friendship from now on. **

**Reviews are my pudding and pie people. So don't deprive a growing girl, okay?**

**(1) Umm…Reference to Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers. For any fans who have read the books more times than you care to count, don't kill me okay?**

**(2) Annie said this to Spike in Session #5: Ballad of Fallen Angels. In those words almost. **


End file.
